From Hatred, Love Rises
by Marie Fieve
Summary: "Today was the first day of snow, and yet, this year was different. She wore a black grown, her face subtly hidden behind a black lace voile." short Drabble centered on Queen Catherine while her first Winter after King Henry's death. My first attempt in this fandom so give it a try :)


**_A/N: _** Thank you so much Didou for your beta reading, your patience and your support. Even if it's beta… I'm French so all the mistakes still there are mine.

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing, this is just for fun, please don't attack me, my poor little shipper heart wouldn't support it and my bank wouldn't afford it either! *out*

From Hatred, Love Rises

The snow was slowly falling, whitening the castle's gardens and the fields around. The first snow of the year had always been tainted by pain and sorrow for her. Ten years ago, her two fragile little baby girls had been taken from her in an early winter night. The first snow of that year had tinted the land before dawn. Since then, Catherine had always managed to be alone on the first snowy day each and every year. It was her time of grief, the only time she allowed the Queen to step aside and the Mother to completely be.

Today was the first day of snow, and yet, this year was different. She wore a black grown, her face subtly hidden behind a black lace voile. Today, she let her tears fall even though she wasn't alone. She felt the ghost of a hand on her shoulder as she sobbed silently for the first time. She turned her head just enough to see her elder son in the corner of her watery eyes as he withdrew his hand, taking a few steps back to stand by Marie's side. Catherine lightly nodded before turning her gaze back on the snow-covered grave before her. Closing her eyes tightly, she let some more tears escape as she heard Francis and Marie leaving her on her own, giving her the privacy she desperately needed.

This year, her heart was weighted by a grief she didn't expect to be that heavy. Her husband had died, putting her son on the throne earlier than planned. She had never felt his absence as suffocating as that day before. She was used not to have Henry by her side; used to their never-ending fights and hatred. But there had always been one day in the year; one day while she was only a mother and a wife; and Henry was back to be the father and husband he was deep inside, both leaving behind their Crowns and duties. One day, while Henry would join her and share her grief for their lost children. One day, when Henry was his kind, loving and caring self again, and this day only she'd let herself being vulnerable in his embrace. It was a yearly twenty-four hours truce the fate had put them in together, 10 years ago. A truce they desperately needed to come together again. It was that truce that kept them from jumping at each other throat; it helped them remember how much they've been in love with each other in another time, in another life.

Catherine slowly breathed out, exhaling a long puff of steam in the cold winter air. She kneeled before the grave, letting her fingers trace the angles of the stone, making the layer of snow fall on the ground. A sad smile lightly graced her lips as she stood back on her feet. It was the last time she'd come on this grave, she had to let go those 10 years of pain to be able to manage her grief for the love of her life. She turned around, heading back to the castle in a slow walk as she watched a new snowfall adding some thickness to the already thick coat of snow on the ground. This time, a genuine smile lightened her tear stained face as she took in the beauty surrounding her. She sighed, feeling some weight leave her heart; she wanted to remember Henry with love. She loved him, and she knew for sure he loved her back; maybe even more deeply than she could have thought possible. All that hatred had been some sort of protection. Being the King and Queen of France had forced them to hide their love; to burry it to manage the kingdom and deliver it safely between Francis and Marie hands. But now… Now that Henry was gone, and Francis on the throne, she could unleash her heart and grieve for the man she loved, the father of her children, without any shame. From that hatred, their love had always shone brighter.


End file.
